


Light's out

by WhatHaveWeDone



Category: Thunderbirds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-16
Updated: 2018-04-16
Packaged: 2019-04-23 21:02:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14340837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhatHaveWeDone/pseuds/WhatHaveWeDone
Summary: Written for 2017 Secret Santa. The prompt was 'All lights in Tracy island are off and the only light is from Christmas tree'.





	Light's out

As usual, when they were in the midst of a situation, up against the clock, stakes high, it was John who was coordinating.

"Thunderbird One, what's your status?" He called out.

"I'm almost done John, 30 seconds maximum." Came Scott's reply, calm under pressure as always.

"Great, Thunderbird 3?" He made sure everyone could hear – it would be crucial that everyone knew what was going on: they didn't have much time.

"I'm trying John, but this is really tricky." Alan's voice was muffled, only legs sticking out from the tight space he was trying to maneuver in.

"Keep at it Alan, we're relying on you for this – you're the only one small enough to fit." John bolstered the youngest Tracy, trying to hide his worry. If Alan couldn't manage this, if he took too long... well it didn't bear thinking about.

"Will do." Alan had picked up on none of John's concern and remained chipper and determined, focused on his task. Alan could always be relied upon to keep at it: it seldom entered his head that they might ever be unsuccessful, now least of all.

"Thunderbird Shadow, I need an update from you."

"Starting the last sweep now." Kayo was steady and efficient, she was very seldom phased by anything.

"Brains, how are you doing?" John turned his attention to the engineer.

"My algorithm is ready to go John." Brains sounded confident, as well he should. What they needed from him was a walk in the park really, but it was vital.

"Grandma, are you ready?" Everyone had a part to play here.

"Don't worry about me, just focus on the job in front of you." Wise words indeed.

"Thunderbird Four, are... Gordon, where are you? We need you in place!" The first cracks of panic were starting to show in John's voice when he couldn't immediately locate their aquanaut.

But there was no need to worry – as Gordon quickly replied "Relax, John, sheesh! I'm ready, I'm here. I'm just waiting for Virgil to get on with it."

"Thunderbird Two?" The last piece in the puzzle.

"Nearly done, this is heavier than it looks." Virgils' voice was strained from effort and concentration.

"Do you need some equipment, something from the pods maybe?" John began thinking of contingency plans and alternative strategies. They didn't have time for any more delays.

"No, what I need is for you to pipe down for a minute 5. I just need to adjust my grip, and... got it! Give me 30 seconds."

The next half minute passed in tense silence, no-one daring to speak while Virgil was doing the careful bit of maneuvering that their hope rested on.

At last Virgil was able to give the all clear: "I'm in position."

John looked around the room, making eye contact with each person there, all of them ready to play their part. "Operation lights out is go! Now Virgil's got the table out the way, Gordon, get those blankets and cushions on the floor. We want it nice and comfy. Scott, stand by with the food. Kayo, when you are done clearing up the mess Scott made in the kitchen please help Grandma get settled. Alan have you got the lights plugged in yet?"

There was a rush of movement, the plan falling into place. Gordon arranged the bedding on the floor where the coffee table had been just minutes before. Now the circle of sofas formed a secure nest - this room was halfway to a tent fort at the best of times so it didn't take too long to finish the conversion. They didn't need the warmth of the blankets and pillows here of course, but it was part of the tradition. And it was very comfortable. The family piled in, Grandma at the centre. Scott made sure that the snacks and drinks were evenly distributed so everyone had something within reach.

"Got it!" Came Alan's triumphant cry, wiggling out from under the Christmas tree where he had been trying to plug in the lights, and joined the others on the floor.

They were going to make it after all! This had been a tradition since any of the Tracy brothers could remember, started even before Scott was born, and they carried it on though their parents were gone. Perhaps because they were gone.

The first part was the food, everyone's favourite snacks and drinks and lots of them. It was important to have a cosy cocoon on the floor – a bubble of safety - and the main room on the island was perfect for this, the couches marking the boundary between them and the outside world.

It was vital, absolutely vital that this was done on Christmas eve, and had to be ready before the calendar turned to Christmas day. They had nearly missed it this year due to a rescue, but they had made it with minutes to spare. They wouldn't have made it in time if it hadn't been for EOS, as her bit usually took ages and often resulted in squabbles and cross words.

"EOS run programme 'lights out' please." John called out when everyone in place. In years past they had to spend hours on hands and knees with bits of tape. They always missed something, and someone would be dispatched at the last minute to cover up the dreadful intrusion. They would then have to spend even more hours peeling the tape off again afterwards. But now EOS had imbedded herself in their lives and systems she spun into every bit of technology on the island and turned off the lights.

All the lights. Every status light, display, blinking LED was turned off. Anything that emitted a glow was off - from the microwave to the launch lights. Holo-emitters turned dim. Emergency lights were shuttered. The ever-present light that indicated a live uplink to Thunderbird 5, gone. Everything still worked and EOS was monitoring – just in case – but you wouldn't know it in the gloom.

The eight people stopped their shuffling as if silenced by the darkness. Stillness spread from them into the room and beyond. There were now no lights on Tracy island, not in that room, not in the launch bays. There was nothing lighting paths, nothing on the docks. Due to their position in the middle of the island there was no light for hundreds of miles and that would have been oppressive if not for the way they sat close to one another.

In a way that they don't often get a chance to one was leaning against another's shoulder, one had an arm draped on a leg, one was using someone else as a foot rest. The usual poses of a family comfortable and relaxed and at home and not phased by the lack of light. The nature of their work meant there were seldom days when they were all together but they had all gone to extraordinary efforts to have these hours. Thanks to some improvements to Thunderbird 5 and with EOS's help even John could be there without worrying they would miss a call from someone in distress.

With the lights out it seemed that the background sounds of the island were louder: the wind susurrating through the trees, the call and chirrup of crickets. And fainter, but still there, the rustle of waves on the shoreline that surrounded the island. Those sounds had come to mean isolation, safety and most of all family to the members of International Rescue.

"Brains, you're up." John broke the silence.

"EOS, run programme 'Tree Torrent 'please." Brains asked with impeccable courtesy.

"Acknowledged." And with that the Christmas tree bloomed with light. Maybe they had overdone it with the number of lights this year as there was barely a bit of greenery without at least a couple of bulbs nestled in each branch. But they had always been suckers for lighting.

The family took a few moments to appreciate the warm glow that now illuminated them, before it started to change. The lights faded on and off, patterns chased up and down the tree, waves of brightness ebbed and flowed. Sometimes there were patterns. Sometimes, if you looked closely, you could almost see images in the lights, before they dissolved into random twinkling again. They didn't have a roaring log fire, but the lights created constantly moving shadows and an entrancing dance just as open flame did. Brains had really outdone himself this year.

Small sounds returned to the family – one would shift position, one would eat drop a handful of popcorn, one would let out a pleased sigh at the dazzling display. It was almost impossible to tell who though and in truth it didn't matter.

"This activity is not one that I have encountered in my research of festive traditions." EOS spoke into the room, just as it seemed the International Rescue logo flickered – just for a second – if it wasn't imagination - across the tree.

"No, this one is probably just ours!" Gordon grinned as he replied.

"It would be of benefit to my understanding of humanity if you were to offer an explanation."

"Well, It was Mon and Dad's first Christmas together." Scott started, passing the popcorn to Alan at his impatient gesture.

"Just the two of them." Alan added hand deep in the bowl.

"They lived in a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere." Virgil said sipping his drink while eye-rolling at the mess Alan was making.

"Much like here really." Gordon was always there to add humour to any situation, and this earned him a nudge in the rooms from John, before the space monitor continued. "There had been a storm that day."

"I remember that." Grandma interjected. "It wasn't too bad but we had very high winds."

"Mom decorated in a very traditional style." Scott said.

"Candles, and bows and all that" Virgil clarified.

"Perhaps not the safest, but utterly enchanting." Brains praised.

"She did always have a knack for decoration." Kayo smiled at the memory.

"Anyway, they were about to go to bed, when the power cut out."

"A tree had fallen on the line about two miles away."

"Of course they didn't know that at the time."

"They just knew the house had gone dark."

"They checked the fuses so knew there was nothing they were going to be able to do until morning."

The family continued to tell the tale of the first Tracy Lights Out Christmas. They all knew it by heart by now: though EOS didn't realise it someone asking 'why do we do this anyway' was part of the tradition. Once they were snug against each other with just a tree for light they would tell each other the story over again. Each told a small snippet before leaving it to be picked up by someone else: holding their collective memory of the people they had lost close, and making it stronger amongst the recollections of years gone by. No one person ever told this story. They all told it together: some parts were wistful, some parts sad, but all parts filled with the love for each other.

"It was too late to call anybody."

"Nearly midnight."

"The only lights they had were from the candles on the tree."

"They decided not to go to bed."

"They got all their cushions and piled them up in front of their tree."

"And wrapped themselves up in blanket."

"So they weren't in the dark, and they couldn't leave the candles unattended."

"They were there for several hours."

"Just them and the candlelight."

"The only light for miles."

"Like a lighthouse Dad said."

"Like a shining star Mom said."

Or maybe EOS did know what she was asking and was joining in herself. Maybe John would be able to tell, but he didn't seem to be letting on as to whether or not this was a genuine request from the AI as he was joining in with the tale as much as anyone else.

"Till the power came back on and they could go to bed."

"It wasn't long really."

"Just a couple of hours so they didn't even loose any food."

"so they had dinner as planned."

"But Mom said she liked the night before even better."

"She loved candlelight."

"So they did it again the next year."

"And every year after that."

"Spending just a couple of hours each year in the dark on Christmas eve."

"With the tree."

"With us too, when we came along."

"And we still do it every year."

"Even though Mom and Dad are gone."

"With just us and the tree on Christmas eve."

"It has to be on Christmas eve, not a minute after midnight."

"To remember how lucky we are."

"To have our family."

"And remembering that family isn't just about who you are related to."

"We are very lucky really, to have this family right here."

Eventually they would start to peel off and go to bed, to be well rested to celebrate the next day. Or to be ready in case of an emergency. But for now they were content to be bathed in the glow of a tree adorned with a thousand lights, using the silence and darkness as an excuse to reconnect as a family.

They had a dangerous line of work so had swiftly learned to appreciate each time they made a safe return to their HQ. Usually this was shown by a fist bump to the shoulder, a ruffle of the hair or a casual salute. They didn't have time for much more: there was always someone who needed saving. In this oasis of peace and stillness they made the time for the hugs, the hand clasps, the heads on shoulders that they all needed and lacked throughout the rest of the year.

Well, maybe there weren't a thousand lights this year. Maybe there were one thousand and one. You had to know to look for it, you had to notice that one spot of light was just a bit bigger than the others and that it did not flick on and off. In fact, if you looked really closely you would see was made up of multiple lights forming a ring around a slightly larger one. It would be rather obvious to an outside observer watching John's face and who could see his gaze linger on that spot with a slight smile. It was harder to see from among the bundle of Tracy's that EOS did indeed know what she was doing and had claimed her place as one of them.

Drifting conversation would follow for the next few hours, talking of nothing much and every possible topic. What they said was not important. Who said it was not important. They only thing that mattered was the closeness that comes from sharing the safety of a circle of light in an empty ocean of darkness.


End file.
